


Snow Fights, Hot Cocoa and a Dolphin Stone (A Wacky Christmas Fic)

by DulceDeLecheGranizado



Category: The Centricide (Webseries)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Family, Fluff, Gen, Holiday Sweaters, Hot Chocolate, Nazbol is a kid, Posadist uses xe/xem pronouns, Snow, Snowball Fight, Winter, and xe's latino (for self-indulgence. also bc J Posadas was argentine), the ship is not the main point of the fic tho, theyre just having fun as a family :], wacky ideologies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:33:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28344687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DulceDeLecheGranizado/pseuds/DulceDeLecheGranizado
Summary: It's December 24th, and the Wackies are out in the snow.
Relationships: Anarcho-Monarchist/Homonationalism (Centricide) - Relationship
Comments: 6
Kudos: 24





	Snow Fights, Hot Cocoa and a Dolphin Stone (A Wacky Christmas Fic)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [@JregUniverse on twt](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=%40JregUniverse+on+twt).



> Wrote this for jritter's secret santa lol, hope u enjoy :)

A white landscape. A cold afternoon. A man crouching down next to three spheres, one on top of the other. Two sticks attached to the sides. A proud look upon his face, shiny as the crown on top of his head.

Another man joined him, bringing two little stones. Long pink nails placed them in the snowman’s face, giving it the gift of sight (if it were a real living being, that is).

Homonat took a step back to admire the other’s creation. “It’s looking good”

“Thanks”, Anmon nodded. “Aren’t you cold?”

“No, I’m okay”

A burst of winter wind hit the strange pair.

“You’re shivering”

“No, I’m not. Mind your business.”

“Are you sure you don’t want it?”

“No, I’m not going to wear one of your ugly Christmas sweaters outside. What if a group of sexy men passed by and saw me like that?”

“I don’t see what the issue would be, exactly. It is winter.”

“So? I gotta look my best anyway. I don’t have 100k followers on insta for dressing like a grandma. Besides, if you’re so worried about people being cold, why don’t you go bother Grug? He’s literally shirtless. I don’t know how he survives”

“He still refuses to wear any clothing besides his boxers”

“I know right? He’s insane. It’s pretty hot, actually…”

A few meters away, Grug was throwing snowballs at Nazbol, who grinned and covered his face, gathering snow to pay him back. It was a noisy, almost animalistic fight; pure childish joy.

“Where’s Transhumanist, anyway?”, Homonat asked.

“He didn’t wanna get out of the car. He’s scared of snow “messing up his circuits”.”

“Oh my god, he’s not even a robot”

“Well, you know him. The poor fool lives in denial. Thankfully, we don’t suffer from such delusions. Anyway, did I tell you about this neogothic style castle I’m gonna have my servants make once I’m king? It’s-”

“Homonat! Homonat!” Nazbol came running towards them, screaming in his high-pitched voice.

“What is it, sweety?”, he smiled warmly, widening his eyes.

“Where’s Posadist?”

“I already told you, xe went to buy us some hot cocoa… achoo!”, the rightist said (and sneezed).

“Oh. When will xe be back?? Grug wants to show xem this cool rock he found. He says it looks like a dolphin and it reminds him of xem.”

“Do not worry,” Anmon intervened, “xe won’t take too long now”.

“Okay!”

The kid ran off, screaming something to Grug, who was staring dumbfounded at the sparkly red and green lights of a nearby house.

Homonat sneezed again. Anmon stared at him.

“Alright, alright, fine. Give me the stupid sweater”

The monarch smirked, grabbed his sword from the ground, and walked towards the bench they’d left their stuff on. Homonat followed him, as Anmon took the famous sweater out of his backpack. It was pink, with rainbow-colored reindeers and black suns all over it. The fascist couldn’t help but laugh.

“That’s actually kinda cute, let me see” he said, taking it from his hands. “I’m impressed. These must’ve taken you a lot of time”, he added, sitting down and putting it on.

“Well, yeah”, he sat beside him. “As I was telling the others earlier while you were _on your phone_ , they did take me quite a bit. But knitting is quite fun, and I wanted to give you guys something special. A good king cares about his vassals, that’s all”, he shrugged it off, fiddling with his cape.

“Aww, you’re so sweet”, Homonat teased, caressing his shoulder.

“I-it was nothing, really, Anpac helped me a lot with-”

“How does it look?”, Homonat raised a shoulder, posing like a model.

“Uh… you look… good”

“HEY GUYS” a robotic voice startled them. “WHAT’S UP, BEEP BOOP”

“Oh, hi Transhumanist”, Homonat greeted. “I see you’ve decided to join us, after all”

Transhumanist nodded.

“I DON’T LIKE SNOW, BUT MY PHONE RAN OUT OF BATTERY AND I WAS GETTING BORED”

Homonationalist patted the free spot of the bench beside them. The cardboard-box-headed dude sat down.

“WHERE IS POSADIST”

“Xe went to get us hot cocoa”

_thud_

A snowball hit Anmon’s snowman.

“Hey! Watch it! That is my son you are disturbing!”, he exclaimed, half joking (he did care about his poor creation).

The little Bolshevik chuckled, staring at him with a mischievous smile and more ammunition ready in his hand. He aimed at the “father” this time.

Anmon’s already theatrical voice grew even more histrionic, deciding to play the game.

“Ah, I see how it is. So, you’re challenging me to a duel, little knight? Then a duel you shall get!”

He quicky armed himself with improvised snowballs and went running towards the kid, shouting more king-related nonsense.

The next victims of snowball-throwing, shortly after, were both Transhumanist and Homonat, who were staring at the latter’s phone. The attacker wasn’t Nazbol this time, though. It was Grug.

“AHHHH. WHAT WAS THAT FOR”

“Phone make you sit still and be sad. Come to snow”

“Oh my god, I was just trying to show him this one tiktok trend!”, whined the rightist.

“This be special day. No staring at screen. Play with Nazbol.”

“But-”

Grug raised a snowball-wielding hand as a threat.

“OK OK, fine. You want a fight? Oh, I’ll give you a fight, honey”, Homonat shot, gathering snow and joining the game.

Much to Transhumanist’s dismay, the attacks towards him didn’t stop, so he had no choice but to give in as well.

Soon, they were all running clumsily on the white ground, laughing and screaming and being as wacky as they were. Anmon carried Nazbol on his shoulders. Homonat didn’t care that his boots were probably being ruined. Transhumanist changed his opinion about snow (only a bit). And Grug was… being Grug.

“Hey guys”, an eerie voice spoke, suddenly.

“Posadist!! Mon, put me down!!”, the kid requested, patting the ideology’s chest.

Homonat was already taking his cup out of Posadist’s tray. “Finally! What took you so long?”

“I’m sorry. The cashier started talking about some “greeblequest” thing and I got distracted. He seemed like quite an interesting person. Heyy, easy there, kiddo!” xe warned Nazbol, who was now hugging xem tight. “You’re gonna make me drop them!”

“Sorry!”, he let go, then took his cup.

“Transhumanist! I’m glad you came”, the communist smiled creepily (not on purpose; xer smile was just always creepy).

“MY PHONE DIED, I HAD NO CHOICE. ALSO, DID YOU HAPPEN TO BRING SOMETHING FOR ME, BEEP BOOP”

“I did, actually. I figured you’d come, eventually”

Each one with their own beverage, they walked back to the benches and made themselves comfortable. Not a minute after, Nazbol jolted up.

“Grug!! You gotta show xem the stone!!”

“Oh! Right! Grug left under tree. Wait”

He rushed away.

“A stone?”, Posadist frowned in curiosity.

“Yes!! Wait, you’ll see”

In the blink of an eye, Grug was back. He placed the small object in Posadist’s hands.

“Looks like dolphin. Thought you would like”.

Posadist’s eyes were shining brighter than usual.

“It’s wonderful”

\---

The day was getting colder, so they huddled together, enjoying their drinks. Between intertwined conversations, their minds drifted to different places.

Anmon kept staring at Homonat, who had sat beside him. He _did_ look good. The sweater fit him quite nicely. He was thinking about that because the color pink reminded him of his sister-wife, of course. Nothing else.

He also kept staring at his nails. He could’ve taken his hand, but he didn’t dare.

Homonat was having a good time. A Christmas song playing faintly in a nearby store sparkled in him the idea of a karaoke night. Nazbol was on board. They liked to be loud together.

The others knew their ears would suffer that night, but they were willing to allow it, just this once.

Transhumanist didn’t really get what Christmas was about. He wasn’t the most touchy-feely person, that’s for sure. Or maybe that’s what he wanted to make himself believe. The truth is, hanging out with the Wackies did make him feel like he belonged somewhere. Even more so since they’d collectively decided to raise Nazbol, like a family. He had brought them together more than ever.

Nobody would’ve guessed the things the kid had gone through if they looked at him right now.

Nazbol was bursting with joy. He kept talking about the gift Santa was hopefully gonna bring him the next day. The Wackies smiled knowingly to each other; they’d been able to gather enough money to buy it for him. The only clueless one was Grug, but he sensed the good vibes and smiled anyway.

Grug kept burning his tongue with the hot cocoa even though they’d told him it was piping hot. He wondered if, perhaps, being close to Posadist made the drink hotter. The ideology emanated light, and light is like fire, and fire hurts to touch because it’s too hot.

It didn’t hurt to touch Posadist, though, so Grug leaned on xer shoulder while they listened to the others chatting.

Posadist was thinking about home. Not xer current home -with these crazy ideologies xe had learned to love-, but the deepest home xe had. Xer origins. As an ideology, that meant the minds xe was thought up in, xer birth as a mix of ideas, strong enough to give xer a physical body. Back there, in the very south, Christmases and New Years felt hot on xer skin. This was actually xer first time seeing snow.

Xe thought to xemself xe wouldn’t let it be the last.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Happy Holidays! <3


End file.
